The Art of Spontaneousness
by xXxJazzy B. RealxXx
Summary: "I don't believe there's just one person. It's an evil, restrictive religion about love, really―and rules are too binding. There are a billion people on the planet to have fun with! Wouldn't it be more exciting to meet as many as you can?"


_**Disclaimer:** __A very small preview-ish prologue to a short story that will be written for kicks by Alicia (LunaMiakoda) and myself. Look out for this same prologue. At Luna's command, there will be more posted to this piece later._

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___"I'm not strong. I've got little games I play when it gets really hard. When I'm working in the factory and the machines are making their little sounds―I just start dreaming and all becomes music. [I used to dream that I was in a musical, because...in a musical―nothing dreadful ever happens]. Isn't that annoying when [they do the last song], then? Because―you just know when it goes really big and the camera goes like―out of the roof, and you just know that it's going to end...? I hate that. I used to cheat on that when I was a little girl. I would leave the chimena just after the next to last song and...the film would just...go on forever."_

~_**Selma Jezkova [Dancer in the Dark]**_

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"Amy, you have to please stop being so violent! If Mama found out about what happened yesterday...!"

Stroking the _tanzaku_ (1) in her hand, the twenty-three year old hedgehog didn't feel obligated to listen to that. Such critiques about her personality were to be blissfully ignored; there was nothing wrong with being perfectly flawed according to her book of _"People to Admire."_

"Then he shouldn't have belted his daughter in public," Amy countered back like a lawyer, lowering her tanzaku to get a good look at Cream's face. "Did you see the way she looked at me when they left? She gave me the eyes of a sad piglet being shipped off to the slaughterhouse."

The seventeen year old rabbit stared at her as if her brain had imploded. "Well yes, but―"

"Don't be so distressed," Amy spun around with her long quills sweeping after her like ribbons of pink, only turning to give Cream a wink. "I'm not a hero of Station Square, but I can be a hero of Vanilla Cafe by protecting those who can't protect themselves!" She was the type of person who could announce such a thing without even flinching, and her grin evidenced that she was going to ignore common sense and think with eccentricity.

Cream gave up with a smiling sigh; she had no choice but to cater to the girl's personality. She placed a broomstick into the cafe's cleaning cabinet and scurried over to a forgotten tray.

"But we're not parental guidance enforcers, we're waitresses," Cream chirped softer than a robin, not one to press sternness onto others; her voice was as light as helium in contrast to Amy's, whose voice was no subtler than a blow horn. "You don't want to scare the customers away, Miss Amy!" Cream suckled on her finger before using its wet tip to curlicue her bangs.

"Oy, Cream!" Amy crowed, holding her tanzaku to her breast. "Stop calling me, 'Miss.' It makes me feel old and inconvenient," she giggled at her, beaming when her friend's expression twinned hers.

"I have to get back to waiting tables," Cream swiped the bread trails off of her maid uniform, which looked more like a cosplay costume in Amy's opinion. "A-And...you should get back, too!" She excused herself with a bow and went out to do her duty. As usual, the rabbit carried a smile like that of a fairy who could glide from booth to booth and dazzle customers with her magic.

Adjusting the headband in her hair, Amy straightened out the layered skirts that gave her blue uniform body and mass before deciding that she looked presentable enough to walk out and meet the humble little huddle of customers.

_'Nyah...' _She made a face once she saw the half-empty booths―or the booths that she could see from her vantage point, anyway. _'There are only two customers this afternoon...' _Feeling the knife of boredom skin her brain, she looked to the setting sun with a far-off look before glancing at the bamboo tree beside the cafe door. _'Probably because it's Tanabata (2) night...'_

She pouted at the blank strip of paper she'd been carrying around all day. "...And everyone's supposed to write their wishes on their tanzakus to hang on the bamboo." Her pout lost itself to a grin. Amy cradled the wishing device with a smile that held a different magic in it. She then closed her eyes with happily flushed cheeks, "But what will I wish for...?"

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_**(1) 短冊 tanzaku**: __small pieces of paper to write wishes in the form of poetry during the __Tanabata_ celebration. After hanging them on bamboo, the evergreen is then set afloat on a river or burned after the festival, around midnight or on the next day.

**(2) 七夕 Tanabata**: _Japanese star festival that celebrates the meeting of Orihime (Vega) and Hikoboshi (Altair) at night. According to legend, the Milky Way, a river of stars that crosses the sky, separates these star-crossed lovers, and they are allowed to meet only once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month of the lunisolar calendar._


End file.
